Unveiling
by vestwearer
Summary: "Girlcrushes are normal. Every woman has them. They don't mean you're really into women. Just because you can name a hot female celebrity or ten, doesn't mean you're attracted to them. It just means you admire them, look up to them." - Emma Swan is a closeted lesbian. This is a story about her figuring that out.


It's a normal day in normal Storybrooke and Ruby and Dorothy are in love.

...

Ruby and Dorothy are in love. True Love. Romantic love. Two women. In love. Who knew this could be? Not Emma, that's for sure. She's happy though! She is, really.

Okay. Ruby is bisexual.

Had that been flirting, that thing Ruby was doing back when Emma first came to town? Emma knows Ruby has a flirty nature but like, _real_ flirting? With Emma? Emma who is a woman.

Nah, just because Ruby's into women doesn't mean she's into _her_. God, that's prejudiced.

Had it been flirting though?

LGBT fairytale people. Are there more of them? How has Emma not known?

She opens her laptop and does a quick search: "gay people in fairytales".

She finds a bunch of links to what's called rewritten stories and retellings. The stories she finds are all about gay men. There are some links about traditional mythology too, where gays were apparently included, but nothing about the normal characters being LGBT. Or well, normal, yeah, but, yes.

Emma's an ally. Always has been. Gay people are just like straight people.

She does another search: "red riding hood bisexual", and whoa. That's... porn. She should have expected this. The first result is a book by a Lisa Summers. It's a part of a series called Erotic Fairy Tales and really- really?! This is not what she needs. Oh shit. _Shit._ The series has books about everyone she knows, including her mother, no no nooo.

Emma clicks her way back to the first book. The cover picture is not one of Ruby, and that makes her feel better about the whole thing. Emma kinda wants to read the story. Just to check it out of course. Like, what would be in it?

There's a pre-view available. She clicks the link.

At first, the writing makes her smile in awkwardness. The story's setup is not that great, but the words flow easily and she's soon biting her lip reading about one of the women appreciating the other woman's breasts. There is a hint of nipple visible, and Emma might be enjoying this. Purely as a work of fiction of course, it's a good story.

The free excerpt is only one page, and Emma finds herself a bit disappointed. Not for missing out on the sex but she got invested in the characters, clearly.

She goes back to google and searches for "bisexuality". To know what it means is one thing, she does know what it means, but it can't hurt to read up some more.

Emma once thought she herself might be bisexual. She was in her early twenties, and she knew she liked men – that was a given, she'd always been with men – but there was this one girl she worked with. They hung out a few times and Emma _felt something_. But like, it's normal to admire your friends' beauty. Women are beautiful and amazing, that's just a universal truth. Men are plain and dull and women are sparkling and interesting. Everyone knows this. It doesn't mean you're into women. It's just fact.

But. How _would_ one know if one was into women? Does Ruby feel the same when she likes a woman as she does when she likes a man, or are the feelings different? Men and women are different so it would probably be different, Emma thinks. But then again, maybe not, maybe it's the same feeling. That feeling Emma feels when she likes a man.

That feeling. A warmth in her chest. Or hmm, no, that must only be in stories. That warmth is reserved for family; Henry, her parents, Regina. That's not how you feel towards people you're interested in like that. Excitement then. Safety. She feels those when she's with a man, she's pretty sure.

It's lovely really, that Ruby and Dorothy found each other. Emma briefly wonders if it's a soft feeling when they kiss. They both have lips that look soft. And there would be no stubble. Probably soft then.

Men feel rough. They are when it comes to a lot of things if she's honest. Emma likes that of course, she does. A firm, hefty grip, that's good, nothing to think about.

Well. Most men are firm but a bit off if she's going to keep being honest, but that's just because they don't know what it feels like for a woman. Say for example if Emma were to touch a woman's breasts-

Wait. No, that's not important.

/

Emma has never dreamed about meeting her prince and moving to a castle. The little girl fairytale dream has never been hers. Emma's been dreaming of parents.

Her whole childhood was spent dreaming up scenarios where they found her, saved her, loved her.

She dreamed of the house they would live in together. She tried to imagine what the parents would look like: a man, large, and a woman, pretty. She imagined many different scenarios. In some, it was her biological parents finding her. They looked like her, and they looked _at_ her with love in their eyes. They had realized that abandoning her had been a horrible mistake.

Other times she dreamed of getting adopted; of finding that family that really wanted her, wanted _Emma_. Those people didn't look like her, but they were kind. Always kind.

Emma would never disappoint the parents. She did that, disappoint people, and they left. People leave, she learned that early, but these parents, the dream parents, would be good. They would see how hard she was trying (and she was always, always trying) and they would accept her as she was.

Love her as she was.

No, Emma's never dreamed about a handsome prince. She's dreamed about familial love and care, but romantic love just hasn't been for her. Plus, she is a feminist. She doesn't need a man to come and save her. She's the hero of her own story.

/

It's Saturday.

In the early afternoon, Emma finds herself at Regina's house, hanging out. Henry's out with friends so it's just the two of them. They do that now, hang out.

Regina is handing her a steaming cup of cocoa over the kitchen counter and Emma takes it, leaning on her elbows, warming her suddenly cold hands on the cup. She has this idea that she'll casually – _casually –_ bring up what's been on her mind, but she's a little nervous.

She takes a breath and does it, quickly, words tumbling out of her mouth: "How do you feel when you're with someone that you like? Like, _like_ like."

Emma knows this, she does. It's just that since she's started thinking about it, she's wondering if it feels the same way for everyone.

Regina's watching her, studying her face, thinking, and Emma pushes down her impulse to shuffle around. Regina's probably wondering what brought the question on, and Emma's jittery and her feet move now, without her permission. She thinks they are at a point in their friendship where she can bring these sort of things up. She hopes they are.

Regina must think so too, and she must sense that this question is important, because she's not answering with snark or a joke. She says, "Well... I feel good. There's this warmth when I'm with the person. Or even thinking about the person. They make me smile, and make me feel better about who I am. Being with them makes every-day things feel easier and more interesting. I feel happy."

Regina pauses and gives Emma a look that's hard to decipher. "If I'm not seeing the person, if I don't know if they feel what I feel, there's a sense of longing. But at the same time, if it's someone I really like and care for, they give me a sense of calm and safety, because I know that the person is there for me. I might be nervous around them, wondering if they like me back, but they still make me feel safe and cared for, if that makes sense? They make me feel like I matter."

It's uncharacteristic for Regina to be this open, to share her real feelings, Emma knows this. It has been happening more and more when they've been together lately, and that makes Emma's chest light and her stomach flutter.

She doesn't comment on it. She doesn't comment on how happy she feels that Regina trusts her not to make fun, trusts her with these sincere words. Instead she says, "Do you also feel, maybe, I don't know... stressed?"

Regina tilts her head to the side. "You mean about if they like me back? Or how they perceive me?" she asks.

Emma shuffles from foot to foot, pondering what to say. "Umm, no, that's another thing, that's not what I meant. I mean like, stressed about feeling the things you know you're supposed to feel. Say maybe you're with a guy and you know he's hot and all and you like him, and he wants to kiss you, but when he goes for it you just don't feel- No, I don't know, forget I asked."

"Emma," Regina says, "if you're with someone and it's a situation where that person might want to kiss you, or do anything else that you don't want, you need to say no. It's always okay to say no."

And there is that warmth again inside, that warmth from Regina's _care._ It fills her up and makes her eyes water.

"I know that. I do," Emma says hoarsely, throat suddenly constricted. "It's just- sometimes I want something, or I think I do, I mean, it feels like the thing to do, you know? But then when I go for it and I do the thing, I don't like it. I don't know."

"Oh." Regina pauses, seemingly weighing her words. "It's easy to fall into things that are expected of you. I know, I've been there. But I promised myself I'll never again be with someone I don't truly want. No matter what he or she does to get me there."

Emma hesitates, "He or she?"

"Yes," Regina calmly answers, looking her in the eyes.

Regina's eyes are so open and deep, shining at her, and Emma can't look away.

She doesn't want to.

Some days, Emma has a hard time believing how far they've come. Friends, _family._ She doesn't know what she'd do if she didn't have Regina to confide in, to help her talk things through.

Emma's still staring into those expressive eyes, and now it's been a long time, so she averts her gaze. She somehow, accidentally, refocuses on Regina's lips instead. Regina's so beautiful. Like, so, so beautiful. And she smells good. Emma feels a little dizzy.

If she were into women, she'd probably want to kiss Regina. She's not though, and she doesn't.

Emma has one of her hands resting on the counter, and now Regina leans forward to cover it with one of her own. She says, "I'm glad you feel like you can talk to me Emma. I'm here for you."

And it's too much. Suddenly too much. Emma takes a step back, her foot catching the leg of a chair nearby which makes a screeching sound as it scrapes against the floor. Emma stumbles to catch her footing. "I'll see you later!" she gasps, and she's out the door.

/

Emma's taking a walk. A quick walk.

Be quiet, be pretty, don't get into any trouble. Always do as they say. Hide, don't make too much noise. Don't be different, don't be weird.

Emma has been trying her whole life. She's been trying so hard.

"You need to fit in," she's been told. "Look at these successful people. Do as they do, act as they act, and things will turn out well."

And she's been acting. Putting on roles and personas has been very useful in her work as a bail-bonds-person.

But life is not work.

In life, she had met Lily. Lily was probably the first person who really accepted Emma for who she was. Not a role, no facade, just Emma. Lily didn't think that Emma was weird. She thought she was special.

Of course then there were lies and betrayal, and Emma's been trying to push thoughts of Lily out of her mind. She loved being with Lily. Lily made her feel good, made her smile, and Emma felt warm and safe and happy in her company. Emma had not had a lot of friends in her life, wasn't really sure how this friendship thing worked, and was a little nervous about it. But she felt a connection with Lily. It was exciting, freeing. And if she maybe – _briefly_ – thought about kissing Lily then well, it was an intense friendship, okay.

Emma just wants some normalcy. Is desperate for it, really. She's finally found her parents and they love her. They want her to be happy. All around her she's hearing that she wants a man, and she does, of course she does. She wants the fairytale she never thought she'd get.

She chooses a path through the forest to get away from people and breathe. She tries to take a few calming breaths, but only ends up hyperventilating.

She wants to be normal, happy, and whole. She wants to relax and to live her life.

Instead she's in a forest, analyzing her fucking past, chest tight, breaths short.

There has always been this _thing_ when she's been with guys. A resistance, a hesistance, that she has been fighting against. It's never been there when she's been around women. Not at all. And Emma's kinda been thinking that that's because she's attracted to men, so she's obviously aware of them when they're around. She's aware and alert.

No, wary. She's wary around men. Even around the men she _likes._ She realizes she's been assuming it's this way for everyone, but Regina made it sound like that's not the case.

Regina made it sound like the way Emma feels around certain women is the way you're supposed to feel when you're around people you like. And that's just- that's-

She sits down on a large rock, elbows on knees, bending forward to rest her head in her hands.

Girlcrushes are normal. Every woman has them. They don't mean you're really into women. Just because you can name a hot female celebrity (or ten) doesn't mean you're attracted to them. It just means you admire them, look up to them.

She can name guys too. Hot men, hot guys, hot male celebrities, hmmmmmm... there was that one guy from that one movie? She knows his name, she does, she just can't think of it right now.

/

Emma starts going through all the guys she's dated, and how she's felt about them.

Neal; her first boyfriend. She loved him. She did. She was young, alone, desperate to escape, and there he was; funny, kind, _there_. He loved her messiness, didn't care that she was a bit clumsy. He was messy too. And they were dreamers. They went on an adventure. He showed her new things, real life things, adult things. He was a good friend (until he wasn't, but that came later), and they were in love.

Or- Emma has always thought that it was love. Thinking back on it now, yes, she loved him – as a friend. The sex had been, well, what girl likes her first time anyways? And after that first time it hadn't been terrible, not really, it had been okay. She just hadn't felt- Emma has a hard time putting her finger on what it was, but something had been missing.

She goes through her other relationships, one by one, and they all have this in common: something had been missing. Emma's always thought it was her, that she was _wrong_ , that she couldn't love right. That she couldn't _feel_ right. But what if-

She stands up and starts walking back and forth, running her fingers through her hair. Walking, running fingers, thinking.

It's like she's been working on a puzzle, thinking she has had all the pieces and trying for years to fit them together. No matter how hard she tried, they just wouldn't fit. Now Emma's thinking maybe there was a piece missing all along.

And she might have been looking at the puzzle from the wrong angle.

/

Twenty minutes later, Emma opens her messages to Regina and writes:

 _I think I might be gay_

 _Holy shit_

 _Fuck_

 _Regina_

 _I think I'm really gay_

 _Like, REALLY GAY_

 _Regina_

She's a bit worried that Regina won't see her texts until later, and Emma'll be left with this hanging in the air, but Regina must have been waiting phone in hand. She answers immediately.

 _Emma. You're okay. Breathe._

The second text comes through just as Emma takes a shaky breath.

 _Do you want me to come to you?_

Emma types out a short _No_.Then adds, _I'll come over later?_

She gets an _You're always welcome_ in response.

/

Emma does show up on Regina's doorstep later. She's been walking for hours; legs tired, chest tired, brain tired.

There are tear tracks on her cheeks, though she doesn't really remember crying. Her hair is mussed up and tangled from running her fingers through it, and she might have been self-conscious about this at another time, with another person, but she barely spares it a thought. She's safe here.

Regina opens the door. A burst of warmth and a delicious smell of something baking hits Emma as she shuts the door behind her and takes her shoes off. She doesn't lift her head all the way up after removing her shoes, just stands there, head bent, hands in pockets.

Regina closes the distance between them with a few steps and wraps Emma up in her arms.

It's an engulfing hug, tight but not stifling, and Emma feels herself move closer and her body begin to loosen up. Her shoulders drop, her knees drop – her knees drop and she's almost falling, but Regina's there to hold her up, and Emma leans against her and breathes. Breathes and moves her arms that's been hanging limply at her side up to Regina's back, and Regina is warm and solid against her.

Regina is a small woman, yet somehow she feels large in a substantial way. She is everywhere, immersing Emma in her embrace. Emma feels Regina's hair against her arm and Regina's smell surrounding them as they breathe against each other. Slowly, Emma's worries fading, she relaxes.


End file.
